


No Comparison

by fuzipenguin



Series: Explosive Relations [6]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bondage, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, Other, Possessive Behavior, Threesome, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 06:30:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6969973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Jealousy is the fear of comparison' - Max Frisch</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Comparison

**Author's Note:**

> Follow up to Bad Day

                 Sideswipe was finally starting to go hoarse. It took some doing for that to happen in a Cybertronian frame, but Sideswipe hadn’t really stopped vocalizing for the past two hours.

                Well, Wheeljack amended to himself, there was those times that Sunstreaker had fed his spike down his brother’s throat and ruthlessly used it until transfluid had bubbled up and overflowed Sideswipe’s cheeks and chin. Of course, that probably hadn’t helped Sideswipe’s vocalizer either.

                He was making guttural little grunts now, in time with every broad swipe of Wheeljack’s glossa over that bright red, flickering nub at the apex of Sideswipe’s valve. He had become particularly sensitive during these past two or three overloads, his node swollen to nearly twice its original size and valve lips puffy with diverted energon.

                A puddle was forming on the floor from the overflow of Sideswipe’s lubricant, the berth under his aft well and truly soaked. Wheeljack’s face was a mess as well, copious amounts of fluids streaked across his cheeks, nasal ridge, and even a bit on his forehead.

                He could care less. He was in nirvana, his whole world this demanding, moist heat that tasted and smelled so delicious. And Sideswipe certainly wasn’t protesting. In fact, he hadn’t even hesitated to agree when Wheeljack had asked to tie him up and eat him out until his voice went. The idea had revved Sideswipe up so much that once bound, it had taken just a single finger trailing up his slit to send him into a keening overload.

                Wheeljack had lost track of how many Sideswipe had experienced, although early on Sunstreaker had promised he would count. He was enjoying himself as well, thrusting into Wheeljack’s valve as he knelt on the floor between Sideswipe’s spread legs or using his brother’s mouth as Sunstreaker saw fit. And what a show that was, to look up the length of Sideswipe’s body to watch the hitch and sway of Sunstreaker’s hips as he rode his twin’s face.

                Sunstreaker was making use of Wheeljack’s valve once again, lazily pumping into him with long, deep strokes seemingly designed to build Wheeljack’s charge up to maddening levels. He wasn’t too concerned though. He had a wonderful outlet in front of him in which to take those frustrations out on.

                Adjusting his grip on Sideswipe’s hips, Wheeljack buried his face even deeper into Sideswipe’s valve, lips surrounding the other mech’s node and suckling hard. Sideswipe gave a warbling cry, legs shaking in the ropes which kept his knees spread wide.   

                “Give it to him, Sideswipe,” Sunstreaker rumbled, reaching around Wheeljack’s pelvis and ghosting over his node piercing. His own pleasure urging him on, Wheeljack redoubled his efforts, his glossa lashing over that hot little nub again and again. Arching prettily, Sideswipe cried out a garbled version of Wheeljack’s name and overloaded once more, another rush of fluids seeping out to coat Wheeljack’s chin.

                He immediately gentled his lips’ suction, easing Sideswipe down off his high until the warrior slumped back down onto the berth.

                “Mmm, good, Sideswipe,” Wheeljack crooned, cupping the valve and smoothing his palm over the rapidly twitching rim.

                “Nngh…” Sideswipe moaned, his head lolling from side to side. His optics flickered, mouth opened to suck in extra air.

                “I think you’ve finally made him speechless,” Sunstreaker purred, bending over to nibble at Wheeljack’s nape.

                Wheeljack nodded, the notion brushing his nasal ridge over Sideswipe’s node and making him jerk. “Progress,” he agreed.

                “This… is how… I wanna… die,” Sideswipe gasped out, hands twitching in their ropes.

                It was quite an ingenious setup, one Wheeljack had borrowed from a previous encounter.  Sideswipe’s calves were bound tightly to the back of his thighs via thin, almost decorative ties. Thicker ropes wrapped around his knees and then traveled over one side of the bed and under it to emerge at the other side. Those ends were wound tight Sideswipe’s wrists, pinning them flat against the berth at his sides.

                The ropes were already taut when Sideswipe had urged Wheeljack to pull them even tighter. The red twin’s shoulders and hips had to be aching by now, but he seemed to pay it no mind. Or else it added to the overall experience.

                “Not on the battlefield in a blaze of glory?” Wheeljack suggested, sliding several fingers into Sideswipe’s valve. Three fit easily, so he added a fourth.

                “Oh, Primus, _yes_ , _more_ ” Sideswipe moaned, trying to arch into the penetration. “… this is way more fun.”

                “It is that,” Wheeljack commented, feeling Sunstreaker’s pace begin to pick up. He idly thought about convincing Sunstreaker to lay on his back for the next round so that Wheeljack could ride his spike while continuing to lick up into Sideswipe. Somehow, he didn’t think Sunstreaker would have any objections. “You’re so open. I bet you could take my fist.”

                Sideswipe made a sound like someone dying, hips tilting up invitingly. Before Wheeljack could say anything further however, the door to his quarters unlocked and swung open.

                “’Jack, are you in here? I haven’t… oh. There you are,” Ratchet said, his head and shoulders emerging in the doorway. His optics quickly took in the scene, orbital ridges rising in a split second of shock before he nodded approvingly.

                Wheeljack stared wide-opticked at his best friend, Sunstreaker’s hands tightening down on Wheeljack’s waist almost painfully. Still panting, Sideswipe rolled his head to the side and regarded the medic, somehow managing to give him a nod of greeting.

                “Hey, Ratch!” Sideswipe said cheerfully. Wheeljack had no doubt that if Sideswipe’s hands had been untied he would have waved.  ‘Shame’ wasn’t really a word the crimson twin was familiar with.

                Wheeljack opened his mouth to speak, acutely aware of the lubricant dripping down his cheeks and the inside of his thighs. Not that Ratchet hadn’t seen him in similar situations before, but this time Wheeljack somehow felt very exposed.

                It was one thing for Ratchet to _know_ Wheeljack was involved with the twins. It was quite another for him to walk in on them mid-interface. Especially since this was one of the few physical relationships Wheeljack had had that Ratchet hadn’t participated in as well.

                “Get out,” Sunstreaker growled, punctuating the words with a sharp snap of his hips. Choking down a moan, Wheeljack’s ability for speech momentarily failed him even as Ratchet nodded.

                “Sorry ‘bout that. I’ll catch up with you later, ‘Jack.” With a wave, Ratchet ducked back through the doorway, shutting and locking it behind him.

                “Not likely,” Sunstreaker snarled, thrusting violently into Wheeljack again.

                Withdrawing his hand from Sideswipe’s valve, Wheeljack looked over his shoulder at the frontliner who had suddenly decided to viciously frag Wheeljack into a puddle of limp metal. But judging by the glare Sunstreaker was throwing at the closed door, Sunstreaker wasn’t doing so for either his own or Wheeljack’s pleasure.

                “Stop,” Wheeljack said, trying to twist away from Sunstreaker’s hold. Sunstreaker merely gripped him tighter, slamming their pelvises together.

                “Sunstreaker, I said stop!” Wheeljack repeated in a near shout, thrusting an elbow backwards into Sunstreaker’s chestplate. The other mech grunted at the impact but placed a hand on Wheeljack’s shoulder, trying to push him forward. Into a pose of submission or back into Sideswipe’s valve, Wheeljack wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t having any of it.

                He did bend forward, but only far enough to turn and slip out from under Sunstreaker’s hand. Then he twisted further, falling off Sunstreaker’s spike and collapsing down onto one hip.

                “You said you stopped seeing him!” Sunstreaker snarled, reaching for him again.

                Wheeljack didn’t even think… he just hauled back and punched Sunstreaker across the face.

                The blow lacked a lot of power, especially coming from such an odd position, but it still managed to make Sunstreaker yelp and jerk backwards.

                “You hit me,” Sunstreaker said softly, fingers touching his jaw in wonder. He glared at Wheeljack, violet optics darkening into an enraged indigo. Wheeljack felt a flicker of unease as Sunstreaker’s gaze narrowed. Luckily the stare down was broken by the sound of Sideswipe’s voice.

                “Stop it. Both of you. And someone untie me,” Sideswipe instructed, a hint of command in his tone which made Wheeljack automatically turn and reach for the ropes. He paused however, when Sunstreaker suddenly pushed himself to his feet.

                “I can’t believe you _hit_ me!” Sunstreaker repeated, some of the instinctive anger bleeding away into indignation.

                “I barely touched you!” Wheeljack snapped back, struggling to stand as well and forgetting about Sideswipe’s bonds. Being on equal footing with Sunstreaker took precedence. “And you fragging well deserved it.”

                “What?! What the frag? Why?” Sunstreaker demanded, taking a step forward, mouth turned down into a fierce frown.

                Wheeljack practically burned with indignation of his own. “Why? Are you seriously asking that?! I can’t believe you. These are _my_ quarters, and you have no right to order someone away from them!”

                “Are you glitched? _He_ had no right to just walk in like that!” Sunstreaker retorted, pointing a finger at the door where Ratchet had just stood.

                “Guys…” Sideswipe began.

                “Maybe, maybe not, but that’s for _me_ to decide, not you. You don’t own me, you don’t control me, and you sure as the Pit stop when I tell you stop,” Wheeljack growled, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

                “So your friend barges in and you just drop us like we’re nothing!” Sunstreaker exclaimed. “I see how it is! I knew this wouldn’t work! Frag this and frag you!”

                “Sunny!” Sideswipe called out, Wheeljack dimly recognizing a hint of frustration in the other twin’s tone. But he was more focused on Sunstreaker’s huffy whirl and stomp towards the door.

                “Yeah, well we tried that, and it worked out _great_ , didn’t it?” Wheeljack retorted. “Get out and take your raging insecurities with you!”

                “Wheeljack!” Sideswipe gasped.

                “Fine, I will!”

                “Fine!”

                Sunstreaker practically ripped the door off its hinges and stormed out, Wheeljack following him into the hall to shout about destruction of property, only to remember that he had neighbors just a few rooms down the hallway.

                And also that he was covered in interfacing fluids. Suddenly unable to stand the sensation of his own plating, he strode off in the opposite direction of Sunstreaker. Wheeljack pawed at his face as his panels snapped closed, doing his best to wipe away the evidence of his most recent actions.

                He made a beeline to his lab, taking the unused corridors to ensure no one saw him. Well, other than Red Alert of course, but the security director was surprisingly circumspect in situations like these.

                The doors to his lab finally in sight, Wheeljack broke into a run, punching in his code and bolting inside. He rushed over to his decontamination shower and turned on the controls, it taking far longer than it should because his hands were shaking so badly. He buried himself under the lukewarm water, scrubbing at himself frantically.

                After several minutes, he deemed himself clean, although he had gained several new scratches, more so than he would have earned after a bout of interfacing with the twins. Which he would never have again.

                And why did that thought shoot a spear of agony through his spark?

                He did his best to ignore the pain as he grabbed a cloth and began rubbing himself dry. Halfway through, he buried his face into the towel and screamed into the thick fabric, stamping his feet in what was probably the most sparkling like thing he’d ever done since actually being a sparkling. But honestly, he felt like it was warranted.

                “Wheeljack?”

                Startling at the sudden voice, Wheeljack jumped about four feet into the air and dropped the towel, whirling around to see Sideswipe standing behind him, looking concerned. A long piece of rope trailed behind him, still partially wrapped around his right knee.

                “Oh, Primus… I didn’t untie you. I am so, so sorry,” Wheeljack said faintly, dropping his head into his hands. He had just left the red twin there, bound and vulnerable. How could Wheeljack do that? He knew better!

                “Hey, hey, no worries,” Sideswipe rushed to say, shuffling forward. “Although it was pretty lucky I had this up under the berth, because I couldn’t actually break them.”

                Wheeljack peered through his fingers to see a short, sharp blade that Sideswipe brandished before tossing into subspace. The fact that Sideswipe had left a knife beneath Wheeljack’s berth because they recharged there for at least half of their off shifts made Wheeljack’s spark squeeze again in misery.

                “Are you ok?” Sideswipe inquired softly.

                “What? Why are you here? Why aren’t you with your brother?” Wheeljack replied, confused.

                Sideswipe waved a hand through the air. “I know how to handle an angry Sunny. It’s best to give him a bit of space first. You, on the other hand... I didn’t even know you could _get_ angry. What… what can I do?” he asked hesitantly.

                Wheeljack searched Sideswipe’s face for any sign of deceit or irritation and only found worry. Suddenly overcome, Wheeljack stepped forward and threw his arms around Sideswipe.

                The red twin flinched at first contact, but when nothing else happened other than Wheeljack burying his face in Sideswipe’s neck, his arms slowly crept up encircle Wheeljack’s waist.

                “Oh. Hugs. I can do hugs. I can _totally_ do hugs,” Sideswipe murmured, holding Wheeljack tightly.

                “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” Wheeljack whispered, feeling his trembling intensify. Now that he was no longer in the moment, all he felt was remorse and fear.

                “Shhh. It’s ok.” Sideswipe gently rubbed Wheeljack’s lower back and the soft touch bewildered him.

                “I don’t understand. Aren’t you mad at me?” Wheeljack cried, pushing himself away from Sideswipe’s embrace. Sideswipe didn’t let him go far though, keeping ahold of him by firm hands on Wheeljack’s hips.

                Sideswipe bit his lower lip, looking away for a second before facing Wheeljack again. “Are you fragging Ratchet?”

                “No!” Wheeljack insisted in exasperation. “He’s my best friend. And while I don’t pretend to understand the depth of you and your brother’s bond, it’s the closest thing I can compare my relationship to Ratchet to. We’ve known each other longer than you two have been alive. I can’t just…”

                “Hey, hey, hey!” Sideswipe interjected, placing a hand on Wheeljack’s chestplate. “I just wanted to be sure. I know you guys are close. I get that. I’m ok with that.”

                “ _You_ are,” Wheeljack muttered petulantly, recalling Sunstreaker’s hurt fury.

                Sideswipe sighed. “Yeah. To use a human phrase: you hit the nail on the head when you mentioned Sunny’s insecurities. We don’t… no one ever really… you know… stays.”

                “So at the first sign of anything off, he pushes others away, hurting them before they can hurt him,” Wheeljack finished.

                Sideswipe looked at him with wide optics. “Woah. I thought Smokey was the head doc, not you.”

                “The two of you are not as mysterious as you’d like to think,” Wheeljack replied with a small smile.

                “Guess not. But anyway. No, I’m not mad at you, ‘Jack.”

                Wheeljack ducked his head, idly noticing that Sideswipe’s thighs had smudges of dried lubricant on them. It didn’t look as if Sideswipe had actually cleaned himself off, so he probably had more fluids on his aft and lower back. 

                “Do you think Sunstreaker will forgive me?” he asked in a low voice, peering around Sideswipe to confirm that yes, the red twin had stormed through the halls with fresh lubricant on his rear end and a rope trailing from one leg. And he had come after Wheeljack and not his twin. Maybe that said something.

                “There’s nothing to forgive. He overreacted because he’s a possessive slagger. He didn’t have any right to order Ratchet out and he shouldn’t have gotten rough with you like that. He knows to stop when someone says to,” Sideswipe sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and watching as Wheeljack bent over to untie the rope.

                “Yeah, but I hit him,” Wheeljack said mournfully, standing back up and winding the rope into a circle.

                “Not only did you hit him, but you dented his plating,” Sideswipe replied cheerfully. “It was hot.”

                Wheeljack paused in placing the coiled up rope on a nearby table. “Hot? You think me hitting your twin is hot?!”

                Sideswipe sidled forward, optics lidding slightly. He reached out and curled the fingers of one hand over Wheeljack’s hip. “Oh, you didn’t really hurt him. It’s just… you totally weren’t scared of him. It’s good for him to see that.”

                “For a second, I kinda was,” Wheeljack admitted, ducking his head again.

                “He wouldn’t have hurt you,” Sideswipe rushed to say. “Don’t get me wrong, there might have been a little shoving, but he never would do actual damage. He likes you too much.”

                “Mm,” Wheeljack said, in a noncommittal tone of voice. He wasn’t as certain of that as Sideswipe was.

                “Do you… do you think he would have hurt you?” Sideswipe hesitantly asked, seeing Wheeljack’s doubt.

                Wheeljack thought back to the look in Sunstreaker’s optics. “I… I would like to think not,” he said slowly. “I think he might have pushed me around. But Sideswipe… that’s not ok either.”

                Sideswipe blinked at him, expression startled. “Yeah, no, of course. It’s… I mean, I can take it, but...”

                Now it was Wheeljack’s turn to grab ahold of Sideswipe’s shoulders. “You shouldn’t have to… to _take_ it. You _flinched_ when I hugged you, like you expected me to hit you. That’s not ok. Does he…”

                “Woah!” Sideswipe exclaimed, twisting out of Wheeljack’s grip and holding up his hands between the two of them. “Sunny’s not abusive or anything. He’s rough, but we both are. I can get just as physical as he does when I’m torqued off. It’s something we’ve both been working on.” 

                Wheeljack searched Sideswipe’s face for any sign of a lie but the other mech seemed to completely believe what he was saying. And Wheeljack knew they came from a background of violence that had only continued as the war had developed. Still…

                “All right. I suppose you know best,” Wheeljack reluctantly admitted.

                “I appreciate the concern, ‘Jack, I really do. But I know my brother. And I’m not afraid of him,” Sideswipe insisted, lightly brushing Wheeljack’s arm in reassurance. “And you don’t have to be either.”

                “Well, I guess I should find him and apologize for hitting him at least,” Wheeljack sighed, letting it go. “Here I am complaining about violence, and _I’m_ the only one who actually landed a punch.”

                “Ehh… I wouldn’t recommend it right now. He’s sulking, working things out in his head. Give him some time and if he doesn’t find you after a few hours, then you can track him down. How about in the meantime you help me wash up?” Sideswipe suggested with a shimmy of his hips. “I’m feeling all kinds of sticky. And how sucky is this? Look at me! Still talking!”

                Wheeljack smiled faintly at Sideswipe’s bright grin. It was always hard to resist Sideswipe’s enthusiasm. “You are, but I do detect a little bit of strain to that voice box.”

                “Frag yeah. You worked me over good. We’re gonna have to raincheck that scenario for another time,” Sideswipe said with a dreamy smile.

                Wheeljack cleaned Sideswipe, including beneath his interface panels. It didn’t take long for Sideswipe to start purring and arching into every one of Wheeljack’s touches, but he kept it clinical. His processor was still looping the events in his quarters over and over again and as such, his libido had been well and truly squashed. Sideswipe sensed it rather quickly and although his engine continued to rumble happily, he kept his hands to himself.

                As Sideswipe toweled himself off, he looked back towards Wheeljack’s little break room. “Want to lie down for a bit? No funny business!” he exclaimed, holding his hands out. “I just think you could use some more hugs.”

                To be honest, Wheeljack really did. So he meekly nodded and allowed Sideswipe to grab his wrist and pull him into the large closet. Sideswipe quickly nudged Wheeljack onto the narrow bed once the room’s door had been shut behind them. Wheeljack dove under the thick blanket and held it up for Sideswipe to crawl under too. They slotted together with the ease of familiar lovers, but Wheeljack’s back was cold. That was where Sunstreaker usually laid, the two of them sandwiching Wheeljack between them.

                “See? Much better,” Sideswipe murmured, nasal ridge nuzzling Wheeljack’s cheek.

                “Mmm… do you really think…” Wheeljack began but his words were halted by Sideswipe’s mouth.

                It was a quick kiss, more of a chaste peck than anything, but it was sufficient to quiet Wheeljack.

                “I think you’re going to keep mulling this over and there’s no point right now,” Sideswipe informed him, tightening his embrace. “You need rest to clear your head. And cuddles.”

                Wheeljack sighed in defeat. “I guess you’re right. Cuddles are an excellent solution,” he said, snuggling closer against the other mech.

                “Damn straight,” Sideswipe said smugly.

                Warm and comfortable, it didn’t take long for the toll of their activities to catch up with Wheeljack. The mad whirling of his mind gradually began to slow as recharge crept in and he let it, both physically and emotionally exhausted.

\--

                Wheeljack was startled awake by the sound of the door creaking open. He’d have to oil those hinges again, he thought to himself as he blearily raised his head. He blinked in surprise to see Sunstreaker standing in the doorway, highlighted by the lab’s lights behind him.

                “Sunny?” Wheeljack questioned sleepily, processor running a little slow. “What are you doing? Come to bed.”

                The wary expression on the golden twin’s face absolutely _crumpled_. Making a hurt sound, he dove forward, crawling up the bed and burying himself against Wheeljack as he turned to receive him.

                “I’m sorry,” Sunstreaker muttered, hiding his face in the blanket covering Wheeljack’s chest.

                “Wha…? Sunny?” Sideswipe piped up, voice scratchy. “Oh, finally showed up, did you?”

                “Sorry… what are you sor…” Wheeljack trailed off as his mind cleared, reminding him of the events a few hours earlier. Had he really been sleeping that long? “Oh.”

                “I didn’t… you were right. It’s your room, not mine and I shouldn’t have… I got too rough and I didn’t stop… please forgive me,” Sunstreaker said in a stream of nearly incomprehensible words.

                “Sunny… Sunny,” Wheeljack called, trying to pull the other mech’s face up so he could look him in the optics. “I do forgive you, absolutely I do, but you have to know that I’m not interfacing with Ratchet. I haven’t for weeks.”

                “I know.” Sunstreaker finally let his helm be pulled up and Sideswipe sat up on the other side of Wheeljack, peering down at them both. “Ratchet told me.”

                “Ratch… _Ratchet_ told you?” Wheeljack repeated, astonished.

                “Yeah, I went to MedBay and…”

                “Oh, Sunny, you didn’t,” Sideswipe sighed, cringing a little.

                Sunstreaker shook his head. “Not like that, Sides. Just to… ask. And Ratchet told me you guys hadn’t, not since that day I saw the paint transfers. He threatened me, well us, too. Said you were the best thing to ever happen to us and if we hurt you, he’d break us down into our components and sell us on ebay.”

                Wheeljack snorted out a reluctant laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like Ratchet. But you couldn’t just take my word on it?”

                Sunstreaker ducked his head again. “I… you were right, you know. About me. I don’t… Ratchet’s amazing. How could you give him up… for us?”  

                “Oh, you are such an idiot,” Wheeljack remarked fondly, stroking the top of Sunstreaker’s helm. “Ratch _is_ amazing. But not as someone I want to potentially have something more than a quick frag with.”

                “I didn’t mean to doubt you,” Sunstreaker said miserably.

                “Hey, we’re all new to this relationship. I’ve had doubts too,” Wheeljack said softly, patting Sunstreaker’s upper shoulders.

                “He thought you were going to hurt him,” Sideswipe interjected, and shrugged nonchalantly at Wheeljack’s answering glare.

                “I wouldn’t…!” Sunstreaker protested and then paused, tilting his head as communicated over their bond. “Oh. I might… might have grabbed you… pushed you…” the golden twin admitted. “Sides says that’s just as bad?”

                Wheeljack stroked the side of Sunstreaker’s face, lamenting their rough upbringing. “It’s not _as_ bad as doing something that leaves physical evidence, but it’s not good either. It doesn’t really promote an atmosphere of safety. Talking things out is always a good first step. And if you’re not ready to talk, you can excuse yourself from the situation until you are.”

                Biting his lower lip in a rare show of uncertainty, Sunstreaker nodded. “Ok. I’ll work on that.”

                “And that’s where _my_ apology comes in. Because I shouldn’t have hit you. I’m very sorry that I did,” Wheeljack said, letting his fingers trail down to touch the small dent on Sunstreaker’s jaw.

                Sunstreaker shook his head. “You said stop. I didn’t. I deserved it.”

                “No, Sunny, I…”

                Reaching up, Sunstreaker took hold of Wheeljack’s wrist, stilling the motion of his fingers. “I don’t care that it was me. If you say stop and the mech you’re with doesn’t, you do whatever it takes to make them,” Sunstreaker replied, gaze serious.    

                “Promise you will,” Sideswipe added, looking intently at Wheeljack.

                Wheeljack glanced from one twin to the other before finally nodding. “I promise. But I won’t ever have to again with either of you, right?”

                “You’d better not,” Sunstreaker replied, frowning. “And we have to work on your hand to hand, because that was honestly kind of pitiful.”

                “Are you kidding me?” Wheeljack exclaimed, jaw agape. “That was just about the worst position I could have been in to punch someone!”

                “He did leave a dent,” Sideswipe pointed out, practically crawling across Wheeljack to prod at the area. “I thought it was hot.”

                “You would, you weirdo,” Sunstreaker retorted, placing a palm over his brother’s face and shoving. Sideswipe fell backwards, laughing, and Sunstreaker’s lips curved up in an almost helplessly fond smile.

                Wheeljack observed the two of them and wondered how he could have ever doubted their relationship. They were rough, sure, but he had known that when he first got involved with them. It was actually part of their appeal.

                But they could also be sweet and oh so gentle, Sideswipe’s quick wit complementing Sunstreaker’s slow thoughtfulness. Wheeljack was immeasurably glad that he wasn’t losing them, at least not yet. The war had taught him to savor the good when one found it because who knew how long it would last.

                And he was going to enjoy the twins’ company for as long as they would have him.  

  
~ End


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